


Heavy, Ugly, Blue

by bubbleguchi



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:22:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26411068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbleguchi/pseuds/bubbleguchi
Summary: The first time she held an axe was a nightmare. It was bronze, an ugly blueish thing, and heavy. Far heavier than a staff.-x-A one-shot based on an idea I had of Lissa training to use an axe after becoming a War Cleric.
Kudos: 7





	Heavy, Ugly, Blue

The first time she held an axe was a nightmare. It was bronze, an ugly blueish thing, and heavy. Far heavier than a staff.

"Lift with yer back!!" Vaike would yell, as if she even knew how to lift with anything but her arms.

Libra's advice was delivered more gently, but was still just as useless.

"Imagine the axe as a part of your body. It is an extension of your arm. You control it," he'd say in that wispy sing-song, but Lissa just scoffed.

"If my arm ever gets this heavy I'll let Henry chop it off!" she'd grunt back, and Libra would sigh and smile politely and they would be done for the day.

Basilio was a lot of fun, but a terrible teacher. He was much better at telling crude jokes than preparing a little girl for war. Not surprising, really.

So she gave up. She left her ugly, off-blue axe in the corner of her tent, and when they'd pack up and move on, she'd smuggle it onto Stahl's horse so she didn't have to bear the weight.

_I'll just stick to my staves_ , she thought. She was obviously a skilled cleric, and there were plenty enough fighters in their company. She'd only get in their way, her and her heavy, ugly, almost-blue axe. Best to leave the fighting to those strong enough to hold a weapon.

The next time she held an axe was a nightmare. She dragged her ugly, heavy, nearly-blue companion behind her, moving as quickly as she could towards the sound of battle. Everyone else had left already, but Chrom had deemed it unwise for her to fight on the Midmire.

He hadn't told her that himself, of course. Frederick was left with that duty, along with the duty to keep Lissa safe and away from the battle.

Lissa was more than a little offended. She had been with the Shepherds since the start of this war, when they found Robin in that field and took them in! Why now was she to wait on the sidelines while her comrades fought in her stead?

It wasn't hard to slip past Frederick, shouting that nature called and not to follow her or she'd tell Chrom he'd been peeping. The axe, however, was a little harder to smuggle out unnoticed.

Her dress was barely long enough to cover the big, ugly thing, but Frederick had quickly averted his eyes when she had left her tent, doubled over and groaning, the axe tucked tightly between her thighs. She'd continued like this until she was out of his sight, after which she set off running.

She arrived at the battle ground sweating and panting, blisters already starting to swell on the sticky palms of her small hands. The ugly thing was getting heavier by the second, but the weight lessened considerably when she heard his cry.

Ricken was surrounded, assaulted on all sides by arrows and axes and swords, his mages' robes offering little protection. He was throwing his spells weakly, a few landing but most missing their targets by huge margins.

The next time she held an axe, she was a nightmare.

Her feet pounded the ground towards Ricken, the ugly, heavy, could-be-blue-in-the-right-light axe flying behind her, adrenaline pulsing through her body. She cried out when she reached him, a savage battle-cry that turned the heads of the Plegians that surrounded Ricken, and she leaped.

In free-fall, everything weighs the same. A feather will fall at the same rate as a lead ball, and an axe will rise above the head of a young princess and land with ease in the skull of a soldier.

The next time she held an axe, she was their nightmare.

Her cry tumbled from her lips as she embedded her graceful, ice-blue axe into the Plegian's skull. Her landing was sloppy at best, and pulling the axe from the unfortunate man's head proved a difficult task, but it gave Ricken the time he needed to regain himself enough to attack.

Lissa felt like the world was moving in slow-motion, Ricken's voice rising as he chanted spells to summon thunder and fire down upon their enemies. Her hands were slick with sweat and blood, her new companion hanging from them as if weightless. A smile crept across her lips.

Two soldiers remained by Ricken, three of the five lying dead at their feet, two of which were the recent work of Ricken, the other one Lissa's. Her smile grew wider as she tightened her grip around her wonderful, blood-wet axe, and then she started to laugh.

She laughed louder and louder as she soared and swung and crashed and dodged, louder and louder until she was screeching, cackling while she slaughtered anyone who threatened peace and her friends and the life the Shepherds had worked so hard to protect.

The next time she held an axe, she was the nightmare from which they would never wake.

And she had never felt so alive.


End file.
